Pacifist takeover

Root for the underdog;
the one without a cause
He is the future of the world
Haven't you heard,
he's the one who will save your soul,
he's the meek
in his fist
he'll hold the world


The cynic and the critic
face off
in a battle of wits
to see who fits
best into the role of dictator,
fighting over the glory
of being the one to sink the nation faster


The pessimist shakes his head
Well, what else did he expect?


Pride and glory
it's always the same old story
The victor is bloodthirsty for the spoils
he will continue on his path undeterred


To guarantee reign
over the ruined kingdom
the underdog will be granted lordship
while the puppet master lurks behind,
pulling strings


While you sleep sound in bed at night
Your brow relaxed, not plagued by worries
The meek will save your soul;
isn't that what you were told?


June 29 2011